As I said yesterday, the week I finished university for good was a busy one to say the least; and that was after running around like a headless chicken trying to get my portfolios printed, bound, and handed in.

A number of generally geeky pursuits dominated my week, but the heavy was most definitely brought in the form of two shows, the latter of which I’ll be reviewing right here.

It was a dark and stormy Sunday evening in Camden Town. The moon was high, and cast deep shadows over the goblins and other uncelubrious creatures of London’s dirtiest suburb. Shady doorways hid all manner of nefarious goings on; things an innocent mind such as myself had no business in witnessing.

Okay, so it was sunny with a mild breeze. But I’m trying to keep it metal here, what do you want from me?

My compadre and I got to the venue, the oft-frequented Underworld, just as the second support act, Iwrestledabearonce, were about to start. I’ve seen their name around a bit recently, and not always in a positive light, so I wasn’t really expecting much.

I was actually pleasantly surprised. Sure, the music wasn’t amazing, but they didn’t completely suck. Lead singer Krysta Cameron can sing quite well, although I do think her screaming leaves something to be desired.

More to the point however, they were also pretty entertaining. The crowd up front seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely (especially the guy in the bear costume), and Cameron was much more interesting to hear talk than her Prime Ministerial namesake.

In all honesty though, it was The Chariot we were for, as with every time they’ve been on the bill.

This is why:


The last time they played London, supporting Protest the Hero, they blew everyone right out of the water. Whilst they don’t suck on CD, I can’t stress enough how much you have to see this band live to truly appreciate their genius.

And tonight’s performance was energetic as ever. Unfortunately I was on bag protection duty and so couldn’t get too involved, but it was still enjoyable nonetheless, and they succeeded in swaying my opinion on their most recent album, Wars and Rumours of Wars, which I had yet to fall in love with. Always a grower, these guys.

But I digress. This is truly how a punk show should be; noisy, sloppy and impassioned. Limbs flying. A bloody nose or two. What’s that; throwing your instrument halfway across the stage? Sure. Transferring the entire drumkit into the middle of the floor for the final song? Not a problem. All in a day’s work when you’re The Chariot.

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